Monthly Archives: October 2013

SCA Fighting: Some Problems

This past weekend, I had a chance to take a class given at my local SCA training gym. It was taught by Syr Gemini and Sir Mari, the founders of Oplomachia, a western martial art based on Medieval manuscripts. It was a great class, and I really appreciated the structured, disciplined approach to SCA combat, and some of the things Syr Gemini said really resonated with me. It definitely got me thinking, not just about my training, but about my goals in the SCA.

I come from a martial arts background. I started practicing Taekwondo at the age of seven, and while my experience was definitely a Westernized one, there was still a high level of discipline and practice. Even as a black belt, every class started with the practicing of basic techniques (after group stretching, which I loved). Every twice-weekly class had a structure, which included line drills, partner drills, forms, as well as free sparring. Practice made perfect, and you got plenty of practice.

SCA heavy combat, by contrast, is wildly unstructured. Most fighter practices are just an extended free sparring session, where a more experienced fighter or knight may take a newer one aside to give a few pointers. The problem, as Syr Gemini pointed out, is that it’s very difficult to put new concepts into practice without training them repeatedly, to say nothing of doing so when someone else is swinging back. Retention is low, and discouragement can reach very high levels. And that’s if everyone is telling you the same thing (spoiler alert: usually they’re not)! This hasn’t been as much of an issue for me, given my previous martial arts experience (I can fill in a lot of the blanks, as well as separate the signal from the noise), but a lot of my friends are not so lucky.

SCA heavy training is still based heavily on the “Whack/Thump” method: you get in armor, maybe get a few pointers, and then commence with the hitting/not getting hit. You improve over time, but it is often by intuitive leaps, as there’s no structured discipline, a codification of what works and what doesn’t. There’s plenty of fighting, but not much training.

On the fencing side things are a little better, but that may just be my local group. When I started fencing, it was like going to a martial arts studio: every practice started off with drills, basic parries and attacks; there would be a seminar, teaching new concepts or practicing older techniques; then the night would end with free sparring, a chance to implement what had been introduced. But even this structure has fallen away in recent years; fencing practice is now a series of pickup fights, and the training has moved to another night that not everyone can make.

So where does that leave us? Well, it leaves me dissatisfied, but also motivated. Part of me craves the structure and rigorous discipline that comes with martial arts. I am willing to admit that the SCA is a different environment than a Taekwondo studio, what with being a volunteer organization and all, but that doesn’t mean things can’t be improved.

And I’d like to be part of that solution.

Happiness

I will warn you now: this entry is going to be sappy. Like, pancreas-cringing levels of saccharine sweetness, well past the lethal dose in lab animals. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

One result of going through occasional Funks is that the times I feel genuinely happy can be few and far between. In fact, even when I’m not in the middle of a Funk, I generally go through life in a somewhat detached manner, often feeling like I am observing things from the outside. When asked how I feel, my answer is often truthfully “I don’t know.” It’s hard to describe this type of neutral existence, but if you’ve experienced it yourself, I’m sure you understand what I’m talking about.

But something happened to me Sunday night. I wasn’t doing anything special, just laying in bed next to my girlfriend, both of us reading (myself a book, her on her tablet). It was getting late, and well past time for me to be asleep given how early I would have to get up on Monday. But while I was lying there, I was overcome with an odd feeling: one of overwhelming bliss and happiness.

This normally doesn’t happen to me. Even when generally happy, it’s hard to turn off the part of my brain that worries about the past or future. But this time, even those voices couldn’t shake me out of my happiness groove. For a short time, I was utterly happy. I wasn’t worrying about my job search, the bills that go underpaid, my underemployment, or the multitude of old mistakes and “mistakes” my psyche holds on to to knock me down a peg every once in a while. I was doing something I enjoyed, and spending time with someone I loved. I rolled over and hugged my girlfriend, and just stayed that way for a bit, a smile on my face. For a moment, everything was right in the world.

There’s not really a point to this post, other than sharing an odd experience, as well as proof that I am occasionally happy. Now I’m going to go brush my teeth, before the sweetness gives me cavities.

Two Months In

I hadn’t planned on doing another one of these status check-ins until closer to my sixth month of blogging, but recent happenings have gotten me thinking, and it’s as good a time as any for some navel-gazing.

I will preface this by saying that this post is not meant to be a “poor me” type of angst-fest, another chance for me to be too hard on myself, or even a cathartic rant. I am merely trying to look at things in an objective manner. I don’t feel like I’m in the middle of a Funk right now, although things may be trending that way; this is one of my attempts to forestall that. When I write these posts, I write them mostly for myself; writing has a way of laying bare my innermost thoughts to my higher mind. Now, without further ado, let’s make the first incision.

I’ve missed a couple daily posts lately. When I started this blog, I had every intention of writing every day. I saw the opportunity for an outside motivator, one which could goad me on when my internal drive fell flat. But that hasn’t happened. I will say that most missed posts were not from malice or apathy (actively choosing not to write on a given day). Most of the time I’ve just forgotten at the end of a busy day, and by the time I remember I’m in bed trying to get to sleep. But while I’ve been posting almost every day, I haven’t been writing as regularly as I intended. When I have a buffer, I find myself drifting closer to apathy: “I don’t have to write today, I’ll just write two posts tomorrow.” Of course the second post doesn’t happen the next day, and any buffer I may manage to shore up doesn’t last long.

I also find myself less motivated to write, almost obligated, even. I will readily admit I didn’t have a plan for this blog at the start, but I had all sorts of grandiose things I could do: serial and short-form fiction, movie and game reviews, pithy commentary on the world we live in, et cetera. Instead, most of my posts seem to be venting, since those don’t take much effort to write. But even then, I find myself writing them as an afterthought: I’ll get home from work around 2, and by the time I get around to writing it’s after 3h30. Even then, I’ll postpone my “break” as long as possible, cranking out a post at the seemingly last minute. I did a similar thing in school, where my ego would use the excuse of a time limit to justify the lack of perfection.

These two things, the missed updates and the growing lack of motivation, seem to me to be signs of a potential burnout situation. I’ve burned out before: after taking 19 credits my first trimester of college (I switched from a dual science major to majoring in French); and almost again in grad school, I took 15 credits as well as worked full time my first semester (I have no idea how I did it). But that also means I’ve gotten better at reading the warning signs. In my opinion, something is going to have to give if I’m to keep my passion for writing.

And I think I know just the thing. The problem with writing every day is you don’t get any break (shocking, I know). As a result, I’ve come to worry too much about the production of writing that I don’t have any time or energy to worry about the craft; I’ve prioritized quantity (or regularity) over quality.

So I’m going to take a day or two off. According to my stats page, not many people read this blog on the weekends. That makes Saturday and/or Sunday the logical choices. From here on until I change my mind yet again, I will not be posting on weekends. If I feel the urge to write, those posts will go into the buffer, but I will not plan on writing during the weekend. I will endeavor to write every weekday. A regular time each day would be ideal, but I am reluctant to make an engagement I can’t keep.

Screw that. A regular time is ideal, so I will put it into writing: I will write at 2pm every weekday. That should give me time enough to get home from work, but would be before I start “decompressing” (read: surfing “t3h Int4rw3bz”), as the inertia of slacking is quite strong. I will try to write on weekends, but will not feel guilty if I don’t.

So say we all I.